The Calm Before the Storm
by grey2thesun
Summary: This first Eragon fan fiction book by my friend and I is the tale of two, young Riders, whose journies start before the Fall. Action, adventrure, evil, and more are here as in Eragon, even if all of Paolini's characters are not. Please read and review.
1. Beginnings

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Beginnings**

Grayson bent to examine the ground once more. In the distance, he could hear that his friend was nearly finished counting.

"Nine! Ten! Ready or not, here I come!"

He ignored the laughter issuing from somewhere over the hill and focused his attention on the soil. Buried just below the surface was a large stone. It had caused him to trip in his haste. For no reason, Grayson had looked back to find out what had caused him to stumble. Now that he had discovered the object, he was sorry that he had wasted his time.

He brushed the dry earth from the surface of the stone. It was unnaturally smooth, but no other unique qualities were immediately apparent. The stone was an ordinary gray in color—no, silver—no, brown. It was odd; as Grayson moved his head to different angles, the rock took on different hues. One way it reflected the dirt's ugly tint. Another way, it seemed to have more of a silver sheen.

He decided to dig it completely out of the ground so as to better scrutinize it. It was a moderately difficult task, considering the…_thing_…was lodged tightly in a hole. Eventually, he was able to pry it free.

The laughter of his playmates grew louder as they drew nearer. Grayson quickly took the stone and headed for the nearest clump of trees. There, he found exactly what he had hoped for: a knothole big enough for this…_treasure_ was it? Having stowed it away, he hurried out of the trees and ran to his friends. They didn't suspect a thing.

* * *

The wind was bitter but soothing after the confines of the city. The plains stretched before her like a sea of promises, whispering of future adventures that she would surely undertake. She was young, and she was an elf. Together, they made a heart that was true but unlearned. Daramay turned back toward Dras Leona for one last time then rode into the waves of grass on the back of her black mare. 

She had accomplished her first mission, out on her own without an escort. Even though it was only a scouting recon, (taking figures and talking to state officials,) she was still filled with elementary pride. Best of all was the fact that she was carrying this satisfying emotion to a place dear to her heart: home. In fact, she was so overcome with these thoughts that she barely noticed the glare that streaked past her eyes…barely.

Daramay dismounted and began walking toward a small enclave in the flat land. It was from this indenture that the glint had come. The hole was no more than a foot deep and hardly a foot wide, yet it was obvious that someone had tried (and failed, miserably) to conceal its contents. When she bent and removed the few twigs and brambles covering the entrance, she found the source of the glint: a rock.

_Disappointment has a bitter taste, _Daramay thought. Yet, even through this displeasing feeling, she began to consider. The rock was very smooth, maybe even flawless, and it was shaded the deepest black Daramay had ever seen. Though these few features were far from awe-inspiring, Daramay began to ponder over the fact that it had been hidden, however carelessly. She remembered a teacher from some years back who had been an alchemist, apart from other things. He had said that certain stones had mystic abilities.

After taking all of these facts into account, only one question remained: Who did it belong to? With the ease of someone simply turning down an afternoon snack, Daramay dismissed this thought and put the rock inside of her pack. So what if it belonged to someone else? That someone should not have left it in the middle of the prairie.

Daramay swung her leg back over her steed and took the reins in her hands. She could feel the weight of the stone through the rawhide pack that was slung over her shoulder. The effect both comforted and disquieted her. It suddenly seemed that she was standing on the verge of some great cliff, looking over into the abyss below. At the same moment, her intuition softly whispered in the back of her mind, _You're not alone._

As if in response to these ominous thoughts, a rumble of thunder came rolling over the plains. She looked to the south and saw a veil of dark clouds across the horizon. The storm was still miles away, but Daramay felt it would be better to keep ahead of it. Burying her heels in the beast's sides, she once more took off across the flatlands. Her uncomfortable thoughts had been replaced yet again with anxiousness. She longed for home; the smell of the trees, the feel of soft grass beneath her feet, and the sight of sun-dappled ground through the branches of ancient trees.

She closed her eyes and let the wind blow through her hair. Du Weldenvarden lay somewhere to the north, and she would ride the wind ahead of the storm until she was home.


	2. Wyrda

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Wyrda**

That night, all thoughts of the stone escaped Grayson's mind. He had a relaxing evening, which was rather uneventful, and then he went to bed shortly after sundown. He was awakened at dawn by his father. This was the routine every morning, because they had to tend to the animals on their farm before breakfast. The family owned two cows, eight chickens, and one old steed whose only job was to pull the plow each spring before planting.

Breakfast on this particular morning consisted of two eggs and a slice of bread each.

"No butter?" complained Grayson's younger brother.

"The cows aren't milking like they used to," was their mother's reply. Things always seemed to be going rough for the family.

After completing the rest of the chores around the farm and house, Grayson spent the remainder of his day contemplating the current financial state of his family.

_I can't wait to get out of here,_ he thought.

His coming of age was less than two weeks away. It was then that he would be able to leave home, and the call of adventure held a certain, wonderful attraction to him. After all, he was but a simple farm boy.

_I want to get away from this place, but I don't know how I would manage._

There was always the problem of money. He was ever trying to escape it, but it seemed to constantly rear its ugly head. He had no job besides working on the farm, and getting one just meant he would have to stay settled in one place. He recoiled from the idea of living in another village like Furnost and was unsure of what life in a big city would be like. Adventure was the route that beckoned him most, but still…money.

He could always—wait.

_The stone,_ he remembered.

He had never seen anything like it and assumed that it had at least _some _value.

_Yes, that's it._

He finally had a rough idea of what he was going to do: He would sell the stone for as much as he could get and use the money to travel where he could.

_It may not sell for much, but perhaps I could get enough crowns to travel for at least a few months. I could always use the money to look for work elsewhere._

In the end, he decided that he would leave it up to fate. He got up from his resting place under a shade tree, and headed down the familiar path to the place where he and his friends often played. It took him only a few seconds of searching, but he soon found the stone exactly as he had left it. Taking it with him, he rushed home without a second thought. The afternoon was nearly spent. Dusk was approaching.

* * *

It was nearly midnight. The full moon hung amidst the stars like a pearl among diamonds. There were no storm clouds to obscure the view, for the wind had carried them east two days ago. For now, the night was quiet, and, although she still yearned for home, Daramay took in the sight with peace and silent wonder. She had never seen such an expanse of stars in her life, and with the millions (billions? trillions?) hovering serenely in the velvety darkness above, she felt very small and insignificant.

By sundown on this, the third day, Daramay had still seen no sign of her forest home. She decided to make camp, once more, in the middle of the prairie and had built a fire. For sustenance, she had eaten a cold dinner of bread and cheese. It was both dry and brittle, not at all like the elfish delicacies she was used to, but it was sufficient.

Night had unveiled across Alagaesia, and Daramay had lain down to witness the first prairie moon of the season. At some point, she felt herself drifting and gave in to the calming pull of sleep. The stars blurred, and the world became smaller as her eyes began to close. The sound of the wind and the heat of the flames became distant, fading murmurs. She knew she would dream of far off lands and strange, new sights and smiled. She was almost asleep when there a rustle had come from her right, near the fire.

Daramay sat up quickly and searched the camp with her eyes. She saw no small animals that might have made the noise. Pausing to detect the wind, she noted there was not as much as a gusty breeze. As far as she was concerned, it was just a bit of paranoia from being alone and far from home.

_That's it,_ she assured herself. _You're just spooking yourself, Daramay. Go to sleep._

Then her pack moved.

Instead of jumping to her feet and making a ruckus, Daramay quietly leaned forward and pulled a small hunting knife from her boot. If it were some little, harmless creature, such as a rabbit, she would let it go. If, however, it were a snake, she would most likely have to kill it to keep it from possibly biting her. She couldn't take the risk that it wouldn't be venomous.

The bag moved again, yet no animal emerged. After several minutes of watching this twitching beneath the rawhide, Daramay became impatient. She was tired, and the promise of rest and vivid dreams of nowhere were too powerful a temptation to resist for any length of time. As she moved forward to pull the pack open, there came a final, insistent squirming, and the next second, the black stone stowed within tumbled neatly onto the grass.

The rock lay there shuddering and rolling about as though possessed by some spirit. The light from the dying flames made a sharp contrast of color on the stone's sleek surface, making it seem alive. Daramay had time for one thought, (_I don't think it's a rock,_) before the stone gave once final, violent shake then cracked. The minute the smooth surface was broken, Daramay knew that it was an egg.

From the first crack, there branched several smaller, finer ones. As the force from within (for Daramay had no idea exactly _what_ was in it) pushed harder against its prison, the tiny fissures became gaping chasms. Parts of the shell, which had seemed unbreakable only minutes before, fell away in measured chunks. A shadow moved inside the remnants of the encasement. With a massive jerk that shattered the remaining fragments of egg, a huddled, awkward form collapsed onto the soft earth. Daramay's mouth stood open in a gape, all thoughts of the knife and its possible uses forgotten.

There, in the grass, the firelight dancing across its beautifully shiny scales, was a dragon.

* * *

A/N: It's getting good, no? Read, comment, and, if you would, spread the word. Thanks. 


	3. Birthday Surprises

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Birthday Surprises**

Upon arriving at his home, Grayson set the stone on his dresser. For a long time, he sat on his bed simply staring at it.

_It's a rather pretty thing, _he thought, for it was.

Still, it seemed to change its appearance whenever he moved his head. It might be silver, gray, or brown, reflecting the different colors around his room. Grayson was unaware of how long he spent watching the stone change colors before he fell asleep.

The next morning, his father woke him again to begin the day's work. Although Grayson intended to sell the stone at some point, his chores consumed what little time he had to make the trip into Furnost. The only spare time he had over the next few days was always at night, when it was too dark to work any longer.

He soon established a kind of routine. Each day after supper, Grayson went to his room to care for the stone. He decided to prepare it each night for a trip to the market, should he go the next day. On the first night, he realized the stone's pitiful state. It was still dirty from having been buried in the ground and stuck inside a knothole.

Grayson went to the kitchen to find, as he had hoped, the fire his mother had used to cook supper over still burning, though not brilliantly. The flames were still large enough to use, however. He searched for and found an empty kettle, filled it with water and set it over the fire. He left it there to warm as he went to get the stone. Upon returning, he got a small basin and set the stone inside it.

Once the water was hot, he took the kettle away from the heat and poured the water over the stone. Immediately, the surface gleamed brightly, and Grayson saw his own, soft reflection on the smooth face of the rock. The tougher spots of dirt came off with a bit of scratching. The stone's surface remained unharmed.

This same process went on for three nights: morning, breakfast, work, lunch, work, supper, stone, and then bed. Each night, Grayson would wash the dirt and dust that had collected off of the stone. Sometimes, he would even polish its surfaces with some of his clothes or a blanket. With time, the stone became a hobby, almost an obsession for Grayson. Whenever he looked upon it, he felt a sense of pride like that of a sword collector.

On the eve of his coming of age, Grayson sat down on his bed to polish the stone.

_Hello, there,_ said a voice.

_Hello, Salem._

Salem, the family's werecat, had just hopped onto the bed with Grayson. Salem could talk to the family through a mental connection that they all shared. The members of the family could also converse with him, but whether he chose to respond to them was entirely dependent upon Salem's mood at the time. Werecats were often stubborn.

_Ooh,_ said Salem, eying the stone. _I know what __that__ is._

_What?_ Grayson asked.

Salem turned is ear toward the stone and paused. After a moment, he replied, _I expect you'll find out soon enough._ With that, he left the room, his tail in the air.

_Wait! What is it?_ Grayson called after him, but Salem would speak no more. Rejected, Grayson returned his attention to the stone (_Or whatever you are._) Having finished caring for it for the night, he replaced it on his dresser before going to sleep in his bed.

"Happy birthday!"

His mother, father, and little brother all woke him up the following morning with a birthday wish. His mother cooked them all a big breakfast consisting of eggs, milk, bread (with butter), and honey. They each ate their fill, and Grayson thanked his mother for the meal. His father spoke when they had finished eating.

"Alright, son, we've still got to tend to the farm. Work doesn't stop around here—even for your birthday."

Begrudgingly, Grayson got up from the table, kissed his mother, and then he went outside to work. Today, he did some weeding in one of their gardens after feeding the chickens. When they came in for lunch (bread, cheese, honey, and ham), Grayson's younger brother had a surprise for Grayson.

"You get the rest of the day to do whatever you'd like!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Grayson asked, confused.

"I'm going to work with Dad for the rest of the day. I'm going to need to learn the way things are done around here one day, anyway—especially since you're leaving soon."

"Oh—Leaving?"

"We have another surprise for you," explained his mother. She wore a soft smile as though what she was about to tell him was bittersweet. "We've all been saving up our money for some time now." She withdrew a leather pack from behind the pantry and handed it to him.

"You'll find that there are one thousand crowns inside. We want you to be able to get away for awhile, if that's what you truly want," his mother said.

"Wow. Thank you," Grayson said, unable to say anything else. He went around the room, hugging each of his family members.

After a long, awkward silence, his father asked, "So, what are you going to do with your big day of freedom?"

He thought about it for only a moment before he remembered the stone. He realized that this was the opportunity he'd been waiting for.

"I've got some things I need to take care of, and then I think I'll go into town."

His mother sighed.

"Oh—uh—did you need some help around the house?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh. No. You do whatever you want," she said, turning to chop some onions that were on the counter. "Just don't grow up too fast," she added, sadly.

Grayson went to his bedroom with her words echoing in the back of his mind. He placed his new pack on the bed and plopped down beside it with a heavy sigh.


	4. Rider

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Rider**

When Daramay opened her eyes, her first thought was, _I'm graying out again._ A moment later, she realized she was actually looking at the sky. As she had lain there, drowsy and in pain and disbelief, the hours had whiled away toward dawn. The moon had vanished to give the sun her share of the earth.

Daramay sat up and immediately wished she hadn't. The dull ache in her left arm suddenly flared up, and she had to grit her teeth against the sudden hurt. The camp was as it had been when she had passed out. The fire had been reduced to mere embers, now just charred lumps amidst some logs, and remnants of the once-filled egg shell littered the ground. Curled tightly against her right leg lay the dragon, still sleeping comfortably.

It (he? she?) looked quite harmless and innocent from this angle, without so much as a hint towards the terror it could someday inspire. She reached out, laid a cautious hand on the curve of its back, and started at the sudden dismissal of pain in her left arm. It wasn't entirely gone, but the throbbing had slackened a great deal. With this unexpected bout of relief there also came the memory of the previous night, shocking and a bit frightening in its clarity. She closed her eyes and watched it unfold:

_The dragon sat by the fire, licking the membrane from the egg off of one of its claws. It was entirely preoccupied by this cleaning that it did not seem to notice that it was not alone. Daramay sat, too stunned to move or even speak, staring with amazement at the tiny creature. _

_Its scales had an oily, shining quality that nearly blended with the night sky around them. The dragon had sharp talons on each foot that, even in her almost-numb mind, Daramay registered to be highly dangerous, possibly fatal._

_As it finished washing the tip of its tail, the dragon finally looked up and acknowledged her. Daramay gasped. The dragon's eyes were a deep, golden color that shone brighter than any of the stars and with more ferocity than a blazing fire. They had a liquid-like texture to them, which she had never seen in __anyone's__ eyes before, but that is not what startled her. It was the depth of the intelligence, the recognition behind those eyes that took her breath away. She knew dragons to be wise beings, but could there be so much understanding in the mind of a hatchling? That stare burned into her thoughts and pierced her heart._

_The dragon rose to its feet, took two, lumbering steps, and fell back down. It shook its head as though trying to remember something difficult, and then once more, it got to its feet. This time, it succeeded in making it to the edge of her bedroll, however clumsily. It plopped down next to her right foot and once more fixed her with its knowing gaze._

_Despite the utter disbelief shifting through her thoughts, Daramay felt a strong urge to reach out and touch the dragon. She felt drawn to it, like a moth to the flame, and without knowing or considering the fact that it might bite her, Daramay placed her hand on the dragon's scaly head._

_A burning streak of pain shot through her left arm, so crushing in its power that her vision blurred. The world became a misshapen blob of color. She couldn't pull her hand away, and she had only a moment to __wonder if the dragon were not intentionally killing her. __Her arm was being slowly ripped apart from the rest of her body, and she wasn't sure if her hand had melted from the heat. After what seemed to be eons of misery, her arm detached itself from the dragon's scales, and she fell back, cradling her aching limb. She then presently passed out._

_When she had awakened some three or four hours later, it was still dark. The fire was very low, hardly more than burning coals. The moon had drifted farther to the west. When the wind blew, the sweat on her face and neck turned cold, chilling her. She could just make out a lump near her right boot, and she immediately identified it as the dragon._

_She raised herself onto her elbows, a task that drained her with its simplicity. The dragon slept on. Around her, the night stretched on, no longer comforting, but strangely threatening in its vastness. Slowly, but surely, Daramay raised her left hand to within an inch of her ace. Knowing what she was about to see, but still hoping that this was just a warped dream, she opened her eyes very slowly, to look upon her burning palm._

_There, emblazoned on the flesh of her hand, was a symbol. It was a complex series of curves and loops, but the overall effect of the symbol was less intricate. It was a sign she knew of from countless tales and several, well-done sketches, and even from a man who had carried the mark himself. It meant only one thing, and she knew what it was. _

_As she stared, it became increasingly difficult to see or concentrate. She realized she was about to pass out again, __and with the shooting pains still attacking the very bones of her arm, she welcomed it gladly. Only one thought touched her mind before she grayed out: _This symbol is the gedway ignasia. It means I'm to be a Dragon Rider.

_When she woke up for a third time, it was to the predawn-dawn hours that she sat in now.

* * *

_

Daramay took a deep breath, releasing the memory as easily as it had come. The sky had grown much lighter, and there were touches of pink and orange to the east. The prairie winds were starting to awaken, and she felt it would be better to get moving before they picked up. When she stood, the dragon's eyes snapped open at once and regarded her with a sleepy look of reproach.

She gathered up her bedroll and traveling pack, all the while being observed curiously by her new companion. The mare was still tied to a stake Daramay had pounded into the ground the other day. She pawed her hooves in the dirt restlessly as Daramay slung the bedroll behind the saddle.

As she placed her pack over her shoulder, she noted happily that the pain in her arm was gone. The gedway ignasia on her palm already looked somewhat old and worn, as though she had had it since birth. She began to raise her foot to the stirrup then glanced behind her at the dragon. It was sitting moodily by the ashes of the fire, looking sadly at her as though she meant to leave without it.

She couldn't help it; she smiled.

"Are you coming along, or do you fancy the plains more than my company?" she asked.

Daramay had no idea if it understood her, but the dragon came to her all the same. When she picked it up, it tensed for a moment, and then relaxed into her arms as she swung herself up in the saddle. It seated itself calmly in front of her, its little feet resting on the saddle horn.

As she clicked the reins and the horse began to slowly trot, she saw its claws grip tightly against the horn. Smiling again, she laid a reassuring hand on its back and felt him relax immediately. She then kicked the mare's sides with practiced heels, and they sped off across the plains.

* * *

Miles to the south, on the outskirts of Dras Leona, a solitary figure moved stealthily through the grass. He made his way without any tracks to convey his passage. It was close to dawn, and the world was still very dim, but he knew his way. He could have found it in complete darkness. Even from this distance, he could see the spot in question: a hole barely seen by those with a fair eye on a bright day. Beneath his hooded face, a smile appeared, full of viciously pointed teeth. 

As he drew nearer, though, he began to realize that something was wrong. His keen eyes swept over the displaced brambles around the opening. When his feet finally brought him to the edge of the hole, he gazed down into it with mounting horror. Before he could stop himself, a cry of rage escaped his lips, echoing across the land with frightening strength in the stillness.

Like some beast with a lust for blood, he began to smell the air. The snarling, animal-like noises he made while doing so would have deeply shaken any strong-willed soul, if they had been around to hear them. At some point, a familiar scent greeted his nostrils. A face, as clear as any drawing, sprang into his mind.

The smell belonged to a young, elfin maiden who had been in the city not a week hence. He had not met her formally, but that didn't matter now. For the moment, he knew with perfect certainty who had taken off with his treasure, and that was all he was concerned with.

Overwhelming wrath and exhilaration filled his system, and again he smiled in the bleak, morning gray. He turned north, into the plains, and began trailing the sorry, young woman who had crossed his path.

* * *

A/N: Uh-oh. 


	5. Dragon Hatch

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Dragon Hatch**

_Well,_ Grayson thought after a few moments, _I'd better get ready to go now._

He sat upon his bed, facing his dresser. The stone still sat there in all of its shiny glory. He walked over, picked it up in his arms, and carried it to the kitchen. He had hoped to find a fire still burning from the cooking of breakfast there, but there was none. So, he went outside and into the woods behind the family's barn.

When he had found a clearing amongst the trees, Grayson set the stone on the ground and began building a fire with sticks and dried leaves. Once the flames were dancing over a foot high, he ran back across the field and into the house to get a kettle. He found one and filled it with the water that ran in the stream beside the house.

Once he was back to the clearing, it was to find the fire still blazing, just as he had left it. The stone, however, was not. His eyes fell upon the spot where it had been before he left, but it was gone.

"Where—?" he started to say, but he soon found it, only a few feet away.

Grayson briefly scanned the woods for someone that may have been hiding behind one of the trees. When he discovered no one, he turned his attention back to the stone. He sat with it in his lap for the short time it took for the water to warm up, and then he set it down in the kettle and watched it bathe.

Making sure to clean every inch of its surface, he turned it over in the water several times. He wanted to make sure it looked well for its presentation in the market. When he set the kettle down on the ground and went to get a towel, he stopped dead in his tracks. It sounded as if the water inside the kettle were bubbling.

"What?" he asked aloud, turning around to go and check the kettle. _I didn't let the water boil. How could it be bubbling?_

Peering over the edge, he glimpsed the stone inside, which was thrashing uncontrollably, occasionally splashing water onto the grass. He reached in and grabbed the stone. It continued to jump around until the instant he set it on the ground, in which moment, it stopped completely.

Standing back, he stared in amazement at the solid surface of the stone. Moments ago, it had almost entirely taken on the color of the kettle's insides, giving it the appearance of metallic ebony. Now, however, it reflected the earthy tones of the woods and ground around it.

It sat completely still for the next few minutes, with the exception of a few sporadic tremors that startled him, until a faint crunching sound broke the stillness of the small clearing he sat in.

The stone continued to vibrate uncontrollably, and then stopped once again. This time, when he listened hard, Grayson heard a quiet scratching near the surface of the stone. It appeared to be coming from…_inside?_

Suddenly, the scraping ceased, and a crack reverberated through the air. On the side of the round…_thing_…there appeared a small talon, poking through the hole it had made. Springing forth from the hole came several, shallow cracks. The talon was withdrawn.

A few moments of silence passed, and then a steadily repeated thud began. With each thud, Grayson noticed, the hole in the (_It must be an egg,_ he thought.) shell bulged slightly, and the cracks near the hole grew wider. They began to spread over the egg's entire face. It looked like, at least to Grayson, a small army of men carrying a battering ram was trapped inside the egg, and now, they were going to force their way out.

Thud…thud…thud…thud…crack!

The creature that had been inside had finally breeched its prison. With the last thud, the egg's shell had given way, and the creature had tumbled out head first in a somersault. It gave a cry of achievement and spread its wings.

Grayson's jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide. The creature he had stumbled upon was none other than a dragon.

It's small, yet significant wingspan was about one-and-a-half times its body length, which was that of a full-grown cat. The midday sun shone through the tin skin of its wings, illuminating the intricate weave of small veins and vessels. The wings were supported by thin arms with talons on the endpoints and summits.

The body, from the head to the tip of the tail, was lined down the center with ivory spikes, each razor-sharp. The dragon's head was shaped like a rounded, isosceles triangle. Its brilliant eyes were jungle-green near the thin pupil, but they became a bright, cerulean blue near the edges. Two whiskers grew above the eyelids. Two, hooked teeth grew to the left and right of the nostrils but below them, protruding from the upper lip. The mouth was shaped like a cat's in that the dragon appeared to always be smiling.

Its powerful tail was almost as long as its body, and it ended in a narrow point. The dragon's four legs each had one paw lined with sharp, extending talons. The hip bones and muscles of the back legs were prominent.

The most intriguing feature of all on the dragon was its scales. Like its egg, at first glance, the dragon appeared to be silver; however, as Grayson turned his head to various angles, the scales camouflaged with their surroundings, each acting as a small mirror.

Grayson felt nervous under the dragon's piercing gaze.

"Uh…h-hello," he tried.

There was no response. The dragon simply continued to stare. He thought of how he and his family talked with Salem, and he decided to try a more personal approach. He reached out with his mind until he found an alien presence with a familiar feeling to it. He contacted the dragon, and it cocked its head to the side. Grayson took this to mean that he had reached it.

_Hello,_ he thought.

There was no reaction from his new companion, so he repeated, _Hello._

_Hello_ was echoed back to him in the exact tone he had used. The only difference was that the voice he heard was not his own. It belonged to a female.

_My name is Grayson,_ he thought slowly.

After a second, the dragon merely replied, _Hello,_ in the same voice as before.

_This may take awhile,_ he thought to himself. He heaved a sigh, and then started to walk towards the fire to retrieve the kettle.

_Grayson_, said the female voice.

He looked around at the dragon. She was watching him with her beautiful eyes.

_Did you—?_

_Grayson,_ she said as she reared back and fanned her wings. She gave another cry of achievement.

_Grayson,_ repeated Grayson, pointing to himself for reinforcement.

_Grayson. Hello,_ said the dragon.

Then, Grayson pointed to the dragon, but before he spoke, he realized that she did not yet have a name.

_My name is Grayson,_ said Grayson, again pointing to himself.

_Grayson._

_What is __your__ name?_ he asked, pointing to the dragon.

She turned her head again, as if confused.

Grayson thought for a moment about the most beautiful names he knew, eager to find one worthy for the dragon.

_It's obviously a girl,_ he mused.

After several more minutes, he arrived at the most poetic name he had ever heard. He made only a few adjustments before speaking to the dragon once more.

_Is your name…Ellesmaria?_ he asked.

He had thought about the name of the elfin capital, Ellesmera, and he had tweaked it to a suitable name. Now, he awaited the dragon's response.

_Ellesmaria, _she repeated, as if thinking it over. She seemed to be catching on to speaking quickly.

Although she did not show it, Grayson felt that she was pleased. Still, he hesitated to say anything until she had decided for herself. It took her some minutes to finally make up her mind.

_Ellesmaria,_ she said with finality, and then she began to purr.

Grayson could not help but smile as he returned her almost-haunting gaze.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers. I enjoy getting feedback on this story. Enjoy reading it, and feel free to share your thoughts. 


	6. What's In a Name

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**What's In a Name**

_Daramay! _a voice screamed in her head.

She nearly choked the mare as she pulled back the reins. Her heart was beating a mile per minute, but the initial shock was over. She glanced first at her little companion, and then followed his line of sight. The dragon was staring at an object a few yards away, an object that was moving briskly through the tall grass. With her elfish eyes, Daramay could easily make out what it was.

_Rabbit_, she spoke with her mind. Having learned of magic and the borders of mental thought, Daramay was quite familiar with this form of communication; however, the void that breached across her mind and that of the dragon was the deepest she had ever known. It was like talking over a bottomless pit of words.

_Rabbit,_ he said, for he was in fact, a he. His voice and other certain factors had proved that. _Rabbit, _he said again, getting a good feel for the word. He looked up at her, and she thought she saw pride in his eyes.

They had been conversing over the past two days, ever since the egg had hatched. He was a quick learner, and he soaked up everything she taught him like a sponge. He knew all of his letters, quite a few names (including hers), and his numbers up to 1000. Although he hadn't tried to fly yet, Daramay felt it would only be a matter of time before he did. The only thing that was missing was a proper noun to deem upon the tiny fellow. She reached out with her mind, and the dragon responded immediately.

_Would you like for me to give you some more names?_ she asked. He nodded his head vigorously, so she started running by all of the ones she knew for males.

_How about Athlon?_ she asked. A moment's pause, and then he shook his head.

_Mmm…what of Spothten?_ she asked. An insistent shaking—definitely not.

She cast her mind about for something that would fit. The evening was drawing to a close. The sun still dominated the sky, but soon the moon would be out. She wanted to set up camp before it grew too dark to see. It wouldn't be long before the first stars—and that's when it hit. The name jumped out at her and she knew it was his before she even asked. Looking down at the dragon, she touched his mind.

_Do you like the name Orium?_ she asked. He took a very long time to think it over. Daramay was pulling the mare back, preparing ti stop for the night, when he finally responded. His voice was full of awe and resolve.

_I am Orium,_ he said. Then louder, with increasing humor, _I am Orium. Orium am I. My name is Orium. Orium is me. I…_ But Daramay was already laughing her head off. Here he was, not yet three days old, and he was already cracking jokes. She could feel the mischievous, vindictive nature of the dragon, and she knew that he was going to be one easily given to mirth.

_That's good, _she thought. _What's life without a good laugh?_

_OK,_ she said, _it's time to bed down. Do you agree, Orium?_

He practically beamed with happiness at the use of his new name, and eagerly affirmed his consent. Daramay dismounted, and then gently brought Orium to the ground. She unpacked her bedroll and some other items for her evening meal. Even though he didn't like it, Orium shared her vegetables and bread. There was hardly any meat on the plains, except for the occasional rabbit or bird. He would just have to hold out until they got to the Ramr River, where he could catch some fish.

Daramay built up the fire and there she sat, with Orium by her side. She reviewed his words and letters, and taught him a few more names. He sat joyfully, practically purring with enthusiasm and mounting intelligence. But halfway through the lesson, Orium felt Daramay's attention wane, and this time, it was _he_ who followed _her_ gaze back over the distance they had traveled. Rising in the air like a sic tree against the healthy sky was a column of smoke.

* * *

Grayson sat staring at Ellesmaria for several, long minutes, the crackling fire popping merrily. He was contemplating something. He already knew several things about dragons. For example, he knew that touching a dragon hatchling would result in receiving the gedwey ignasia. The Shining Palm. The thing he was trying to decide was whether to touch Ellesmaria at this time or not. He knew it would have to come sooner or later, but he was not eagerly anticipating the event. He held a debate of sorts in his head: 

_Touching her may result in some pain. But, whether great or small, it will surely be temporary._

_It will give away my position at times, and may be hard to conceal…but even so, what have I to hide? Am I to be ashamed of being a Dragon Rider?_

In the end, he finally decided that he would take the gedwey ignasia. After all, he was bound to touch her (even if by accident) eventually.

He began approaching her slowly, his right hand extended. As he got closer, Ellesmaria reared her head, as if sniffing the air for any sign of danger. Grayson reached out with his mind to calm her, but he found that she was completely relaxed. From inches away, she sniffed the air around his fingertips. Then, he lowered his and to touch her nose.

Instantly, the palm of his hand tingled, then turned white hot…or was it cold? The sensation was so sharp, it was hard for his nerves to decide on one temperature. The pain was biting, and he hissed against it. Just before he was about to cry out, it subsided to a dull throb that eventually faded away. The palm of his hand was left tingling as if it had fallen asleep.

There, now, marked on his hand forever, was a patch the size of a small leaf, silvery white.

Grayson stared in wonder at his palm. _I am forever changed, _he thought._ I am now a Dragon Rider._ A sense of pride hung around his words.

A few minutes later, he set to work building Ellesmaria a shelter. He gathered some sticks together in a pile. With some of the water, he made mud out of the dirt on the ground. Next, he set the sticks against each other at the top, using some of the mud to hold them together. The ends of the stick he stuck into the ground. Grayson packed the remaining mud with dry leaves in the gaps between the sticks. He left one of the gaps open to allow Ellesmaria to go in and out of the miniature hut.

He went over to her and picked her up in his arms. She sighed contentedly, and he carried her to the shelter, where he set her down. He began to walk away, but she turned her head and whined. He turned around to see her eyes gleaming.

_You have to stay here,_ he said slowly while holding up his hands in a stopping gesture. She stayed motionless, and he stepped backwards while keeping his hands up. Although resentfully, she laid down, keeping her eyes on him.

_Stay here, _he repeated.

He put his hands down and jogged away backwards. She whined, and gray smoke billowed from her nostrils.


	7. The Comfort of a Friend

A/N: "Yay! Another chapter!" right? Thank you, my readers/reviewers. This truely is a great story, and I would like to hear from you. Enjoy your reading. I give you chapter seven.

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**The Comfort of a Friend**

Orium stood before her with the setting sun turning his scales an inky black, a hare clamped between his powerful jaws. Blood dripped down his chin from the tiny puncture wounds in the animal's side. There was a distinct amount of pride in his eyes as he dropped the hare, limp and oddly angled, to the ground in front of him.

_Would you like some?_ he asked.

_No, thank you, Orium. I don't eat meat, _Daramay responded, pulling out a piece of bread and a hunk of cheese. She took a drink of water and noted with dull perception that her supply was dwindling. They would have to reach the Ramr River soon, or there could be problems.

She expected Orium to ask why she refused the meat, but he simply went ahead, gorging on the carcass. Not wanting to watch this display, Daramay turned away and began laying out her bedroll. She sat upon this, watching the sun slip below the horizon and munching on her dinner with disinterest. She didn't bother building a fire. She had stopped doing so when she realized that the column of smoke was moving in their direction two days ago. It could be just another traveler like herself, but then again, it might not be. Better not to make a target of themselves if possible. The fire was too obvious against the night sky. As she stared, a pillar of gray smoke began to unfurl a few miles back along the plains, as she knew it would. She sighed deeply.

_Does it bother you so much?_ Orium sat by her left leg, mimicking her gaze as he watched the smoke sway lazily from some unknown campfire.

_I know it shouldn't. It's idiotic to assume he's following us, but I can't help but feel that we may have someone tracking us._

She looked down at Orium, and he met her gaze calmly. _Does it bother you that it bothers me?_

She couldn't help but think she saw a smile on his face.

_Of course! Your worries are my worries, remember that. Besides, I have the same feelings. I think whoever is on the plains is trailing us. Whether or not they come in friendship remains to be seen._

_Your speech has improved greatly, _Daramay commented.

_It should be. You talk enough to keep me constantly on the lookout for new words. _

He was definitely smiling now. Obviously happy with his tactful, little remark, he got up in an arrogant kind of fashion, took two steps, and fell in a rabbit hole. The prairie was covered with them, and some were very cleverly hidden below knotted spots of grass. Daramay burst out laughing. Orium collected himself, looking sourly at her as he climbed out.

_What are you laughing at?_ he asked sullenly. Instead of answering, she went into another fit of laughter. After a few moments, Orium's rigidness broke, and he joined in. He didn't laugh out loud, but Daramay could hear it in her mind.

The rest of the evening slipped by in similar ways, many jokes shared and a few stories told, all of them from Daramay and her days in the forest. By the time they turned in for the night, all of their worries had been forgotten.

* * *

The last bit of sunlight struck the shell and turned it to a brilliant dark piece like a fragment of a mosaic. He sat with its shards scattered across his lap. He had already built the fire, taking special care to fan the flames so that the smoke would rise higher. He wanted her to know he was here. 

His anger boiled just below the surface, and it was all he could do to keep from running to her camp and strangling her. He could probably do it. She was young, and therefore given to stupidity and pride. But he wasn't going to take his chances; not with an elf. He could wait a little longer.

When he had first come upon the shards of the egg, a helpless wrath had overcome him. He had been sure that without this treasure, his life would surely come to an end when he reached the capital. Yet, through his anger and fear, he also felt a grim sort of hope. If he could find a way to make his idea work…but he would have to catch up with the girl. That much was clear.

As night fell down around him, he gazed off into the distance. He was smiling.

* * *

When Grayson went inside for supper, he ate as quickly as he could, eager to return to Ellesmaria. As soon as he had finished eating, he ran back to the wood. 

_Ellie,_ he called.

_Grayson,_ she answered.

She was still sitting in her little hut, but now she was looking up at him. For a while, they just sat staring at one another until she walked over and sat in his lap. With her lying there, Grayson began thinking.

_Now I have reason to go away,_ he mused. _I will start training Ellesmaria, and soon, we will begin our training together as dragon and Rider._

He thought of the future a little longer, while absent-mindedly stroking a sleepy Ellesmaria.

_I've heard that the elves used to train the Riders, but there are few, besides themselves, who know where they dwell, and I am not one of those._

He was going to have to find someone who could lead him to the elves. The problem was, he did not know exactly where to find that someone. The longer he thought about it, however, one place seemed to be the most idealistic to travel to.

_We'll leave in the morning,_ he said to himself and Ellesmaria. She lifted her head and opened her eyes, jolting from sleep. _Sorry, _Grayson apologized.

She stretched and yawned, digging her talons into Grayson's leg. He winced.

_Sorry, _she said. He could feel her sincerity and concluded that she had repeated the word because she had felt the same emotion that he had, when he had said it.

_You learn quickly, don't you?_ he posed. _Oh!_ he said, suddenly remembering. _I forgot all about it. Are you hungry?_ She cocked her head up at him as if trying to understand what he had said. _Do you want something to eat—food?_ he spoke slowly.

Again, Ellesmaria had to think briefly, but this time, she surely understood. She relayed the feeling of affirmation to him and licked her lips.

_Wait here._

He took her gently off of his lap and set her on the ground before dashing back to the house. After he was sure that no one was in the kitchen, he grabbed a plate and speared enough chicken for two people on it. Upon returning to the wood, he found Ellesmaria once again in her hut. He set the plate down in front of the opening. She put her face down into the meat and began eating, though not savagely. When she had finished, there were only a few bites left. Grayson decided to leave these out in case she got hungry during the night.

They sat, Grayson talking to her, she watching his lips and listening to his voice, for hours. Long after the sun had gone down, Grayson conveyed the fact that he had to leave her again.

_I will see you in the morning—after the sun comes up,_ he promised. She let out only a small whine in protest, but consented. He scratched the underside of her chin, and she began her odd purring. _Stay safe._ He hoped that she caught the concern in his voice.

As he walked away, he turned around to see her. It took him a moment to find her in the scene. Just a short while ago, the bright pinks, oranges, and yellows of sunset were glowing on her right side. Now, the night around them was mirrored on her silver scales, the crescent moon reflected brightly on her left side.

Grayson smiled and ran back to her. Picking her up, he carried her to his room where they slept the night through, Ellesmaria tucked against his side, purring with delight.


	8. Hopes for the Future

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Hopes for the Future**

_We've lost the flint, _Orium proclaimed sadly.

There was a bitter chill in the wind that day. It was strong but did not sting, yet they would both have a sleepless night if they could not get a fire going by sundown. For the past couple of days, there had been no sign of their would-be pursuer, and though that hardly meant he had changed course, Daramay wasn't really concerned. It was going to be cold that night, and she wanted to make sure that she and Orium were _not._

_We'll make due, _she responded, and then an idea occurred to her, one so dazzlingly simple in this situation that she felt like a complete idiot for having missed it before. _Orium, do you think you could start a fire?_ He looked at her first with recognition, and then with doubt.

_Well, I could try,_ he said sheepishly, and then ambled over to the collection of brush and twig they had found. He sat before it, gazing fixedly as if in concentration, and then took a deep breath of air. He held if for a moment in his tiny lungs before pushing it out with all the force he could muster. Two little puffs of gray smoke drifted from his nostrils, but nothing more. He sat with his head down and his tail curled about him in such a manner of shame that Daramay felt a stab of pity for the little fellow.

_Don't be sad. You're still very young, and that was a good first try, _she told him in comforting tones.

_Maybe.__ I guess you're right, but I still wish I could have at least made a spark or something, _he said gloomily.

_Watch,_ she told him, and he raised his head. Daramay extended he right hand, palm out, toward the brambles. She paused briefly and then spoke a word in some foreign tongue Orium had never heard. A line of blue flame shot outward and attacked the dry branches of the unlit mass, setting them afire almost instantly. Orium cried out, and he almost fell backwards in surprise. After a moment of awed silence, he turned slowly back to his companion.

_Was that magic?_ he asked in a hoarse whisper.

She nodded.

_You never told me you knew how to use magic, _he said rather reproachfully.

_I don't know much, just a little of what most elves know naturally. I've not completed my mastery of the High Speech, the Ancient Language. So, you see, you shouldn't feel ashamed. That tiny amount of flame is all I'll ever be able to do, probably. Imagine what __you'll__ be able to do once you've been trained._

She left him to these thoughts. As she tended to the fire, her own mind strayed back to her home. She would be a Dragon Rider upon her return. How would they take it? Many would be awed, she imagined. Some would be angered, if only be the fact that she was a woman. But what really concerned her was her family. What would her father think? On most occasions, she could predict his response, but not on this one. He was even harder to read nowadays, ever since the passing of her mother. She just had to hope that he would be honored rather than horrified.

_I'm sorry,_ a small voice interrupted.

_About what?_ she asked Orium.

_About your mother,_ he said, quietly. He had read her thoughts, if only by accident. Their connection was growing stronger with each, passing day.

_That's alright,_ she responded meekly.

_How did she…pass on?_

Daramay sighed. _She was killed on a mission, similar to the one that I am returning from. __In Gil'ead.__ She found out something she wasn't supposed to. And then, when she tried to reveal the information she'd discovered…_

She fell silent. Orium didn't push her any farther. They sat that way for quite awhile, both lost in their own thoughts. When Daramay finally looked up, Orium was dragging a rat from its hole, which was not far from the camp. After a brief struggle, he succeeded in breaking its neck. He carried the body back, plopped down next to the fire, and began heartily munching on the remains. When Orium looked up and saw her disgusted expression, he seemed genuinely confused.

_What?_ he asked.

_Nothing,_ she answered.

Her eyes studied the terrain again. Instead of reassuring her, it made her shiver. She suddenly had a feeling that she was being watched. There was no column of smoke in the dying light, but that didn't matter anymore. Someone was out there. She knew it.

A pressure suddenly resided on her, and she looked down. Orium sitting in her lap, curled up, looking at her with mute concern.

_Don't worry, Daramay, _he spoke, and the sincerity of his voice did what her own subconscious could not. She felt comforted. _Whatever happens, we'll face it together._

_Your worries are my worries,_ she said and smiled.

During the night, as they dreamed of forests and future prospects, a figure crept past their camp. When they awoke the next morning, there was no trace to indicate that they hadn't been alone. They moved on, their spirits considerably lighter for their lack of knowledge.

* * *

Halfway through breakfast, Grayson announced that he would be leaving that day after lunch. He had awoken early in the morning and carried Ellesmaria to the hut in the woods to wait for him. The plate with the leftover chicken was still there for her to eat from. Now, he sat at the table with his family, his mother wearing a face of sadness and surprise.

"But…th-this is such—such short notice," she protested.

"I know, but there is nothing left here for me. I might as well get going."

The remainder of the meal was finished without spoken words. When he had eaten his fill, Grayson sneaked some of the bacon outside to the wood.

_Ellie?_ he called.

_Grayson!_ a delighted voice returned.

Again, he found her squatting in her makeshift shelter, but upon his arrival, she stood. Grayson spotted that the plate was now empty and that the inside of her hut was littered with feathers.

_Did you get food for yourself? __Hunt? _he asked.

_Yes._ She was pulsing with a sense of pride. Grayson could feel it.

_Good girl!_ he expressed his happiness and offered her two strips of bacon as a reward. She walked over, sniffed the tips with her nose, then gulped them up in her mouth.

_We'll be leaving tod__ay—going away from here…the farm. _He tried speaking in a way that she would understand.

_Mmhmm. _She nodded.

_We'll have to begin our training as soon as possible to have the most benefits. I know the elves train the Riders, and I'm hoping they will train me. As for you, I can teach you as best I can, and hopefully the elves can take up the work from there. The only trouble is I don't know where the elves are. I'm hoping to find someone who knows, and more importantly, is willing to take us to them. For that, only one place seems the most logical to travel to._

Ellesmaria had finished the bacon and was now staring at Grayson with her deep eyes.

_Did you get all that? _Grayson asked.

_I understand._

Grayson laughed and brought her close to him. He hugged her and let her know that they would always be friends. He would be there as often as he could to defend her. She vowed the same.

Lunch was just as awkward as the second half of breakfast had been. The entire time, no one spoke a word. His mother had only sniffed as she played with the food on her dish. When he Grayson finally rose with his empty plate, the entire family stood up with him by unspoken consent. They proceeded toward him and formed a line.

"Good luck, son. I hope you find what you're looking for," said his father. Grayson began crying.

"I l-love you s-so m-much!" his mother broke down and cried into his shoulder, howling. When she regained composure, she added through watery eyes, "Don't—_ahem_—don't be a stranger."

His younger brother, unable to express exactly what he wanted to, hugged Grayson and said, "Bye." To Grayson, 'Bye' said it all.

He set his plate in the sink, and then he went to his room and completely broke down, wetting his pillow.

_Grayson? _inquired Ellesmaria, weakly.

_I'm fine._


	9. A New Companion

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**A New Companion**

The river was not very wide, but neither was it shallow. The water frothed and churned in its strong current, rumbling loudly between its banks. If one were to be caught up in its flow, the river would surely drown them in its depths; however, Daramay happened to know a little secret that was common among those who crossed the river frequently.

_If we head upstream for a couple of miles, we'll come to a place where the river thins. It becomes both calm and shallow enough to cross on horseback._

_Will we reach the far side by nightfall? _Orium asked, looking at the water suspiciously.

_Just barely, _Daramay answered.

_Good, because I wouldn't want to cross it in the dark,_ Orium said, and the amount of relief in his voice made Daramay smile.

_What?_ he asked.

_Not too fond of water, huh? _Daramay asked, still smiling.

_I'm not sure. I've never swam before, but that doesn't mean I want to plunge right in, either._

With that said, they began making their way along the western bank of the Ramr River. It was a nice, breezy day, and so they walked rather than rode. Around noon, they stopped for lunch, and Orium caught his first fish. He waded in only as far as his knees would allow, and then he stood motionless as he waited for a fish to come near. After several tedious minutes, he plunged his head into the water and resurfaced with a good-sized trout lodged firmly between his jars. Daramay laughed as Orium, dripping with water and mud from the riverbank, emerged with his trophy. It was a fine day.

Unfortunately, it didn't stay that way.

As they made their way upstream, Daramay began noticing certain markings in the dirt that were more than just suspicious. Upon discovering the eighth of these signs, she knelt to examine one. She knew what it was immediately (having learned quite a few tracking skills in her earlier years,) and was filled with dread at the sight. It was a footprint. Orium, who had been up ahead some ways, now turned back to

_Daramay__ Is everything alright? _he asked.

_Far from it, my friend, _she responded.

_What's the matter? _he inquired, moving up beside her to get a better look.

_It's a footprint,_ she answered. _One that was not hidden quite so well.__ I think are tag-along friend has actually gotten ahead of us._

_But he can't have done that,_ Orium insisted. _We would have seen him or found some trace of him._

_Not unless he wanted us to, _Daramay proposed. _I think he was trying to let us know all along that we were being pursued, at least when it benefitted his cause. __The column of smoke, these simple tracks.__ He wants us to know he's following us._

_Or waiting for us,_ Orium added. _Do you think he's possibly waiting for us upstream?_

_Yes. But we have another problem as well, _she said._ Do you know what it is?_

_Me, _Orium answered solemnly.

_Our one advantage may be that he doesn't know of your existence,_ Daramay said._ If that is so, I would prefer it remain that way._

_I can hide in your pack, _Orium offered.

_Are you sure? _Daramay asked, looking at him, sizing him up. He had gotten a little bigger; nothing major, but still noticeable. _It'll be a tight fit._

_I'll hold my breath,_ he replied, and they both laughed.

* * *

Early in the evening, Daramay reached the still passage point of the river. The water was smooth and quiet, moving between banks in a much less threatening manner than it had been before. It was possible to see clear to the bottom at its deepest point, which was less than six feet. When they crossed, the mare's head would be just slightly over the surface. None of this, however, concerned Daramay for the time being. Her attention was now directed at the man standing on the opposite shore. 

He stood motionless with his head bowed below the drape of his hood. His black robes billowed in the wind. Sturdy leather boots rested on the dirt just inches from the water. One hand lay limply at his side (the left one), and even from this distance, Daramay could see something glittering in the sunshine—a ring. In the other hand, he held a knife.

The silence was impending, stretching out over the river between the two. It was a heavy silence, filled with expectation and suspicion. After a moment, Daramay decided that it would have to be she who pursued conversation. Taking a tighter grip on the knife in her own hand, she called to him across the river.

"Hail! If you are a friend, then name yourself!"

The figure remained silent for a time. He never moved, and the lack of recognition from him made Daramay uneasy. She was just about to speak when a voice on the wind reached her ears. It was smooth, but very unsettling in its bleakness.

"Call me Varsius."

"Tell me, Varsius, are you friend or foe?" she asked.

"Neither. For the time being." An edge had crept into his voice. It sounded disturbingly close to humor.

"I take it by the many signs you have been sending that, whether we are on good terms or ill, you wish to speak with me," Daramay declared.

"Aye, elf. That I do," he agreed.

"Then remove your hood," she called. "I'll not trade words with one who hides his face."

"As you wish," he sneered, and she detected the edge in his voice again. Then, with a dramatic flourish of cloak and hand, he threw back his hood.

The face beneath was pale, but lively. High cheekbones rested beneath narrow, slit eyes of deep red that shone like brilliant rubies in the fading light. His thin lips were drawn back in a vicious smile that revealed pointed teeth (fangs?) of incredible length. His hair was a slick cascade of bloody crimson, and his face was young. A powerful, almost tangible vitality was emanating from him in torrents; enough to plant a seed of doubt in Daramay's heart.

"You're a Shade," she said. Not a question.

"True. But what I would speak with you about has nothing to do with that fact. You see, my employer—"

"'Employer'?" Daramay blurt out before laughing heartily. It was probably a bad idea, considering the fact that the only thing she knew of the stranger was his name. As if to confirm this, Orium touched her mind from his hiding place in the pack.

_Watch it! Don't anger him, __Daramay__ we don't know enough about his skills yet._

_Don't worry so much, _Daramay replied. _I know what I'm doing._ This statement was met with a wave of doubt and exasperation, but Orium fell quiet.

"What would you talk about with me?" Daramay inquired.

"Oh, many things, many things. But we shall not murmur even so much as a word of it here," Varsius answered.

"Give me a moment and I'll ride across," Daramay said, intending to do no such thing. Varsius must have known these thoughts for he smiled his devilish grin again.

"Yes, I'm sure we would start conversing as old friends," he replied, and there was no mistaking his tone this time. He was enjoying himself immensely. "Besides, I think it is _I _who should come to _your _shore, considering the capital stands in that general direction."

"The capital? What do you mean?"

"I mean that the capital is our destination, dear one. My employer has great need of your judgment and council. It would do us well to start on our way no later than first light tomorrow. I take it that you have enough food to cover the journey?"

"Wait just a minute. I never consented to any trek to the capital. Why is there need to travel so far, when you are here? What information is so vital that I must backtrack so many miles?" Daramay asked, trying to maintain a level of control over the situation.

"All good questions that, alas, I cannot answer. I _can _tell you that the trip would be worth the reward. There is a new future being constructed for Alagaesia as we speak, and my benefactor would like to make you a part of it," Varsius replied.

"Does your benefactor even know my name?" Daramay asked, not knowing what the outcome of her question would be.

"Daramay," Varsius whispered, and she felt a cold draft in her heart at the sound of her name on his lips. "Of course, if you need more persuading, I could continue…" At this last, the hand holding the knife moved ever so slightly. Daramay tightened the grip on her own dagger, tensing for a fight, but before she could so much as blink, Orium was in her mind again.

_I think he means us to accompany him, whether we would or __not ,_Orium said. _Do you think you could beat him?_

_I think, but I don't know, _Daramay replied, keeping an eye on Varsius. _If I should fight him and lose, it may mean the end of both of us._

_True, but if we travel with him, he's more likely to cut your throat while you sleep than tell you anything useful._

"I'm waiting, Daramay. I would know your decision as soon as possible," Varsius called.

_Our__ decision, _Daramay told Orium, and she felt him glow with joy. _This is __our__ decision. My desire to reach home is clouding my reason. I am at a loss. Orium, do you think we should go to the capital? _

He was quiet for almost a full minute. Varsius looked on the verge of calling out again, but Daramay silenced him with a shake of the head. She scrunched up her face in what she hoped was a look of concentration. After a short pause, a quiet, but determined voice reached her thoughts.

_I say, we go, _Orium declared. _There's no other way for it. Besides, it sounds exciting. Our first adventure as dragon and Rider!_

Daramay tried not to smile at the exhilaration she heard in his voice.

_Alright, it's settled__ then. We'll go to the capital,_ Daramay agreed. _Orium?__ You do know this means you'll be in that pack for a while?_

_I'll live, _he replied gloomily.

"Are you going to answer me sometime soon? It's getting dark, and I'd like to know where my boundaries lie," Varsius called with an evil grin.

"I am settled. I shall go with you to the capital. Cross the river," she called back.

His sinister smile widened as he descended into the water. It took him less than a minute to reach her shore. His agility was amazing. When he climbed onto the western bank, Daramay stood still, waiting for something and ready for anything; however, when Varsius stood fully in front of her, he merely looked down on his soaked robes and sighed.

"What a pity. They were just beginning to dry from this morning," he said, and then he looked up at her expectantly.

"If we are to travel together, should we not start on good terms?" Daramay asked, nodding toward his knife.

He sheathed his blade before asking, "Better?"

"Not really," she replied, and he threw back his head and laughed.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

They set about making a fire, neither on completely turning their back on the other. Night fell down quickly, and they spread out their blankets across the grass. As Daramay sat, eating her bread and cheese for what seemed the hundredth time, Varsius informed her that he was going to the river to "fish" for his dinner. Laughing like a lunatic at this extremely unfunny joke, he walked away into the darkness. With her elf eyes, Daramay tracked his progress. When she deemed he was too far to see the camp, she opened her pack and let Orium tumble out onto the blanket.

_Thanks,_ Orium said gratefully.

_It's going to be a long journey, _Daramay said, looking at him with a little concern.

_I'll make it. It's not so bad, really. It's almost like being back in my egg. A little comforting, _he told her.

_Well, just remember, if he tries anything, don't blow your cover immediately. Surprise is the best element of battle, _Daramay said. _If he tries to control me, I'll have to take care of him._

_We'll __have to take care of him, _Orium corrected her.

_Yes. __We,_ Daramay agreed. She smiled warmly at him, and she could feel the contentment coming from him. In a sudden, unexpected wave of emotion, Daramay hugged Orium tightly, taking care to avoid his claws. _I love you, Orium,_ she whispered.

_I love you, too, Daramay, _he whispered back.

A fair distance away, Varsius sat by the river, munching on a raw fish. He could have eaten quickly and returned to camp, but he wanted to be sure and allow the elf enough time to let her precious dragon out for a breather.

He wanted to keep the situation as it was. He didn't want her to know he knew about the dragon. When they reached the capital, he would let the senator call the shots, but for now, he decided that ignorance is bliss. He would tell her just enough to pacify her suspicions. As for the dragon, let him hide in his pack. It wouldn't matter one way or the other after they entered the city.

Slipping into a brighter mood (hoodwinking an elf wasn't as tough as he thought it would be,) Varsius rose and headed back to camp. He was careful to wipe the smile from his face as he approached.

* * *

AH!! What will become of Daramay and Orium? If you don't mind, please take the time to drop me some of your thoughts. Thank you. 


	10. Home is Behind JRR Tolkien

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

A/N: I know it has been a long time since this story has been updated. You may have given up on me, but I will start updating more regularly, pending. If you've been waiting for more, you've waited a long time. Without further delay...

* * *

**"Home is Behind" (-J.R.R. Tolkien)**

Homesickness came easily and sooner than expected. Hours ago, after he had regained his composure and gathered his belongings, Grayson had been in his kitchen once more, exchanging 'farewells with his family and Salem:

_"Thanks…again…for everything," Grayson said._

_It was somewhat awkward. There were long pauses that were breached only by several sniffs and snorts._

_"We love you," his father said._

_"Just…be safe, and come back as soon as you've found whatever it is you're looking for," his mother added._

_"I will," Grayson told her; then, he hugged her._

Have fun. Be safe. DON'T LOSE YOUR HEAD, _Salem put in. After he had spoken this, he whispered some words that sounded like utter gibberish to Grayson. _Never forget these words. They may be the most important things I have or ever will tell you. _He repeated them one last time for Grayson's memory, __and then__ said, _You'll understand later. Farewell, Dragon Rider.

How did you know?

_Salem simply licked his __paw,__ and the__n__ trotted out of the room.__ Grayson remembered Salem's words about what Ellesmaria's egg actually was: _I expect you'll know soon enough.

_"I'm going to finish packing, and then I'll be off," Grayson announced, turning back to his family._

_"You won't stay for supper?" his mother pleaded._

_"If I stay for supper," Grayson concluded, "I'll have to stay for the night. If I stay for the night, I'll have to stay for breakfast, so I really must be off."_

_"Then I'd better pack you something…if you really _won't _be persuaded."_

_Grayson chuckled. "I won't."_

_"Alright…"_

_"We have one more gift for you," Grayson's father said. "Come out to the barn."_

_There in the stable, next to the family's horse was a young pony of three years._

_"He's all yours for your journey!" Grayson's father exclaimed._

_"Wow! Really?" Grayson asked, surprised._

_"Of course! On one condition," his younger brother said._

_"What's that?" Grayson questioned him._

_"_I_ get to name him."_

_"Hmm…" Grayson pretended to struggle with the thought. "OK!"_

_He wrestled his little brother down, who giggled all the way to the ground._

_Shortly after their gathering in the barn, Grayson grabbed his belongings, saddled the horse (Arpad), and headed to the wood with his pack._

Ellie, _he called. She poked her head out of the hut. _Are you ready?

_A cry of glee was her response._

You'll have to travel for a short while in my pack—at least until we are out of sight. _Without question, she crawled inside, her talons scratching the leather a bit. She fit nicely inside of the pack. Though she didn't have enough room to move a whole lot, she __would manage for the short ride._

_When all things were finally made ready, the final farewells were given, and the family stood waving in front of the house where Grayson had grown up until he disappeared over the horizon…

* * *

_

Sunset was now approaching, and Ellesmaria lay sleeping in Grayson's lap. The plains stretched on for leagues around them, while the village of Furnost lay miles behind. They had been traveling at a steady trot, Grayson not wanting to tire Arpad out. The immense surroundings that were now about them made Grayson think:

_We're free now—free to do whatever we want. We can go wherever we want to go, see whoever we want to see…_

"In the morning, Ellie," he spoke softly, "we'll begin our training."

That night, Grayson built a small fire—mostly for protection—then laid for hours, looking at the stars, Ellesmaria asleep on his stomach. Arpad stood a few yards away from the flames. After a while, the steady rhythm of his dragon's purrs drove Grayson into sleep.

* * *

When morning had dawned, Grayson awoke to find Ellesmaria missing from the camp; while Arpad stood in the same place he was when Grayson had fallen asleep.

"Good boy," Grayson said to the horse, while rubbing his mane. "Have you seen Ellie? Huh?"

Just before Grayson had time to panic, Ellesmaria came prancing proudly back into the camp.

_Where have you been?_

_Hunting._

Upon closer inspection, he realized that she had some blood in the corners of her mouth.

_What can you find out here?_

_Small animals with long ears_.

_Rabbits, _Grayson told her.

_Breakfast,_ she corrected.

_My! Your speech has improved quite a bit. I'm impressed…proud, happy for you,_ he explained.

_I have been listening to your thoughts,_ she said. _I learn new words and phrases, tones and emotions that way, but my—'speech,' did you call it?—is not quite as satisfactory as yours._

Grayson stood flabbergasted.

_What? _she asked, defensively. _There is not much else to do when you are stuck out in the woods by yourself._

_Are you mad about that?_

_No, _she assured him.

_Wait! How have you been listening to my thoughts? Wouldn't I feel you breaching my mind?_

_I don't know. I would assume that the connection between our minds is growing stronger. I will make this promise, though: I will not violate the privacy of your thoughts without you knowing it again._

_Thank you, _said Grayson, half-surprised. _And _I _will talk __with__ you __more __and teach you what I can._

_Thank you._

That day, they covered only three leagues. They decided to travel at a leisurely pace (they had no appointments to keep). Each day, they would eat a breakfast: Ellesmaria could hunt when they needed, and they had several loaves of bread that Grayson had packed. After breakfast, they could do as they pleased. They could either talk for awhile, play, travel, or any combination of the three. Their conversations would be about their future, but mostly for Ellesmaria's benefit.

_Where do you plan to go?_

_Well, as you know, my final goal is to reach the elves. Until then, I would like to teach you all that I can before leaving the rest up to them. The trick is finding someone who, first, knows where they are, and, __second, is willing to reveal the information. Once we know where they dwell, we can do as we like until we decide to go to them._

_Do you know of a place where we can find such a person? _Ellesmaria asked him.

_Only one place seems like the right place to me: the capital of all Alagaesia, Ilirea._

_

* * *

_

A/N: Comments?


	11. Insight

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Insight**

"Tell me what you know."

"So demanding; no manners to speak of…"

"I'm tired of your secrecy."

"I'm tired of your insistent nagging!"

"Then, tell me something I can use."

"Stop asking so much, and maybe I will."

"You're impossible."

"Thank you."

They had been traveling for three days and had made good time. _Great_ time, actually. The Shade had run beside the mare, never tiring out from fatigue, and he had even bested the horse. The poor thing just couldn't keep up. Around noon on the second day, Varsius had produced a sprig of oak leaves and olives that he guaranteed would increase the mar's speed without causing her any damage. He had informed Daramay that "time was of the essence," but he would not explain why. He had thwarted all of her attempts to gain insight into his cause for bringing her along with him, and now she was just about fed up with it.

"Varsius, I am not a fool, so don't tread on me as if I were one," Daramay said as they sat eating lunch on the open plain. "If you don't give me something substantial, I'm turning back."

"Do you think that is wise?" he asked, raising his head slowly to meet her gaze.

"Probably not, but neither is it wise to keep traveling with a stranger into the wilderness," she replied. He smiled wickedly, showing teeth that reminded her of jagged rocks in the riverbed.

"Tonight," he said, and his tone was final.

_Don't anger him, _Orium cautioned. _We're still not sure of his motives._

_I know that, _Daramay said with a touch of impatience. _I also know that we need to know what the general claim is--what's his story._

_Yes, that's true, but not at the cost of a possible conflict. We need to keep his cooperation in order to reach the capital._

_Orium, I'm not an idiot. I can handle the situation just fine,_ Daramay snapped. _Besides, I think my perspective of the scene is a little clearer than yours is. Do you know what I mean?_

There was a pause, and in that few seconds, she felt anger breech their connection for the first time. Then, Orium was gone from her mind without a word. When she tried to reach out to him, she encountered an icy barrier and was left floating out in the emptiness between them. He had blocked her off.

_Just great, _she thought bitterly. _This is the _last _thing I need right now._

Orium didn't talk to her for the rest of the day.

* * *

The smell of meat roasting over the fire tuned Daramay's stomach, and so Varsius took his meal and made his own fire some thirty yards away. She could see him just fine, and, though he was a Shade, she though he probably couldn't see her quite as well. Taking care to keep one eye on him at all times, Daramay reached over and opened the pack. A very disgruntled dragon came tumbling out. 

She handed him a piece of cooked rabbit, which she had stolen from Varsius the night before, and watched the fire as he ate. She could hear him munching on the bones. After a few minutes, the noises ceased, and when she looked down, she saw that Orium had crawled back inside his pack. This both angered and hurt her. She thought it was childish of him to hold a grudge, but then again, it had been a childish comment that she had made.

A little while later, Varsius returned and sat facing her across the fire. Night had fallen, turning the reflected firelight in his eyes into blazing lanterns. He only stared at her, his eyes boring into her, but she would not look away. It was difficult. Those eyes held a look of madness.

"My employer is a senator on the Chief Council, serving in Ilirea," he began, his eyes never wavering from her face. "He has great plans for Alagaesia, and of those particular plans I cannot speak, for it is not my place. The Senator wishes to speak of them to you, in _person._ He would also like you to serve as one of his advocates."

"What?!" Daramay had been expecting many things, but not this. "He wants _me_ to support him in front of the Council? He doesn't even _know_ me! Advocates have to be chosen carefully, and they must be approved of by a vote of Council. Besides, why does he need an advocate? A senator only takes an advocate when he wants to join the Chief Council or—"

"—Or when he's trying to pass an amendment?" Varsius interjected. A slight smile lit the corners of his lips. "Yes. You see, Daramay, you are of great importance to my employer. He would like you to secure his passing of an amendment, and with its success, he could make a powerful ally to the elves. The Senator is a worthy man. Of that, I am certain."

"One question," Daramay said, taking a deep breath. "Out of so many possibilities, why would he choose a stranger, and, better yet, an elf to be his advocate? In other words, why me?"

"Of that, I am also not allowed to speak," Varsius answered. "You will know in due time. The Chief Council will be meeting in a matter of days, and I would like to get you to the capital as soon as possible. The Senator awaits anxiously, and I would not keep him waiting long. I hope to have eased your mind." He stared at her expectantly.

"For now," she muttered.

"Then I believe I shall turn in. Pleasant dreams, my dear." With that, he lay down, rolled over, and was still.

Daramay sat for some time after, thinking of everything and nothing at all. She thought of the Senator, a man who she imagined as short, rather stocky, and bald, of home and how worried her father would be when she had not returned by the end of the this week, of her mother, who had always guided her through tough decisions, but who could that no longer.

Her head ached, and her heart was troubled. She reached out for comfort, and then she remembered that Orium wasn't speaking to her. Tired and unhappy, Daramay turned over and tried to go to sleep. It never came. It was a long and lonely night.

* * *

A/N: Daramay's back...aren't you excited? 


	12. Growing Together

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Growing Together**

They had been traveling a week. In that short time, Ellesmaria had grown to the size of a dog, her head coming up to Grayson's thigh. Her vocabulary had increased immensely, and they were now sharing full, meaningful conversations. Grayson spoke the words which Salem had imparted to her, in case he forgot. Through their various exchanges, Grayson discovered that his dragon was very intelligent; she could even remember all the way back to the time she had spent in her egg.

_I enjoyed the warmth from the baths that you used to give my egg,_ she told him.

_I thought it was a unique stone, _he confessed.

Their mental connection was now stronger than ever. Both of them could feel the other's every emotion, which was helpful in communicating.

They each started training themselves in different ways that they thought of. Grayson would tell Ellesmaria to go off, and they would test how far they could reach each other. Once, they had made it to a little over one mile, but shortly after, Grayson had to gallop on Arpad to get back in range.

_I was afraid I might lose you,_ he admitted.

_I will never leave you, _she promised.

Grayson himself grew, which he did not notice at first. Later, he realized that some tasks that he performed had become easier than they used to be. Lifting large rocks was simpler than before. He could swim farther and faster without tiring out as soon as he previously did. One day when he was mounting Arpad, Grayson noticed that the horse seemed to be shorter. He glanced at Ellesmaria, and she, too, appeared to have shrunk.

_Wow, _he thought. _I must be growing._

He had also been training Ellesmaria in more than just language: Instead of carrying Ellesmaria in his lap all of the time, Grayson would sometimes keep Arpad at a gentle trot, while she ran on the ground below. This caused her leg muscles to build up greatly. As she grew to the size she was now, she was able to stay with the horse while he moved between a trot and a gallop. If she grew too weary, Grayson was sure to let her rest.

They also went swimming together. Ellesmaria was swift and smooth, cutting through the water with her body stretched straight. She could even swim well with Grayson hanging on to her neck. Both of their bodies were strengthened from the exercise.

Unfortunately, their minds and bodies were not the only things that grew, but also their appetites. With time going on and all of the eating they did, the food supply was beginning to run dry. Of course Ellesmaria could always hunt (She was now catching birds, rodents, and prairie dogs.), but the bread and cheese were becoming scarce.

_Ellie, we need to talk._

_Yes, Grayson?_she listened.

_Our food supply had got me thinking._

_About…?_

_Well, we're going to have to stop into a town or someplace soon, and you can't go with me._

_Why not? _she asked indignantly.

_This is what we need to talk about. There will be times when you cannot accompany me where I must go._

_I will not abandon you._

_I know...Thank you, _he added, _but you will not always be able to follow me. You may have to hide…and I know you don't like it, _he went on, sensing she was about to interrupt. _Let me assure you that I know you are opposed to it. As far as I am concerned, you are always with me. This arrangement, however, is for both of us to be protected. If you are seen, people may want to do you harm. If people found out that I am a Dragon Rider, they may want to do _me _harm. _

_Why? _she asked defensively.

_Some people are not accustomed to having a dragon and its Rider around, as in ancient times._

He waited for what she would say next. When she said nothing, he implored, _Please, Ellie._

She sighed. Grayson could feel her regret. _I understand...but I do not like it._

_Thank you. I know.

* * *

_

Over the next few days, they traveled in a more easterly direction than northerly, searching for a main road that might lead them to a town or village. Two days later, they found one.

_We'll be able to see anyone coming from leagues away, thanks to the flat land. If we were __on__ a main road somewhere else, you would have to travel away from __me_

_All of these restrictions…_she said, begrudgingly.

_I'm sorry, Ellie, _he pleaded.

_It's not your fault. You're doing it for our protection._

_I appreciate your understanding. _He smiled at her.

* * *

They continued north for another day-and-a-half without spotting a town or any other travelers. By evening on the second day, Ellesmaria had discovered a protrusion on the flat horizon. Grayson noticed, by keen observation, that the road on which they traveled had become more uneven, marked with hoof prints and wagon tracks. 

_You'll have to travel alone from here, _Grayson said, _but understand I wish you didn't have to._

She nodded.

_Be careful._

_Don't tell _me, she said.

After lunch, Grayson continued on the road, while Ellesmaria traveled out of his sight, but not out of his mind.

_Where shall I wait for you? _she asked.

_I'll see if I can spot some place in the next day or two. IN the meantime, you should practice flying or at least gliding._

_How?_

_You're legs are strong; jump as high as you can, then glide back to the ground. If you come to a tree, you can climb it. Then, jump out of it and pup your wings. This way, you'll be high enough to catch some air, but not high enough to be hurt badly, should you fall._

_Easy for you to say, _Ellesmaria said.

_You'll do fine, _he assured her. _I…I only wish I could be there to see you do it, _he told her sadly.

_As do I.

* * *

_

When two more days had past, Grayson spotted glowing dots in the protrusion (which had consistently grown larger) at night. He asked Ellesmaria about them, and she said that she could see them also.

_They burn as fire, _she said.

_Torches…it's a town._

_How long before we reach it? _she asked. Grayson could hear the tiniest hint of impatience in her voice.

_I'd say the greater part of two days. Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow night? _he asked, suddenly changing the subject.

_Of course! _she yelled, causing Grayson to jump slightly.

_OK, _he laughed, _it's a date._

As he made ready his bed, Ellesmaria was pulsing with excitement. He smiled.

The next day was filled with little conversation. Both of the travelers were tired, and the hot, beating sun was persistent. The land was dry, and it had not rained for days.

At lunch, Grayson ate the last of the bread. He looked up at the horizon, checking their distance from the town and heaved a sigh.

Near evening, he tried to contact Ellesmaria but could not reach her. He tried several times over the next few hours, but he did not reach her until the sun was low in the sky.

_Ellesmaria! _he exclaimed in a matronly tone. _Where have you been? Nevermind. _He tried to regain his composure and asked his original question: Are you almost ready for our dinner together?

_I've been preparing all day._

Wandering what she was talking about, he said, _I'll meet you a little ways off the road to my right._

_I'll be waiting._

She sent him a picture of where she was, and the only thing that set it apart from the rest of the plains was a small shrub to her right. He found the place shortly after, though he had to search for a moment for Ellesmaria; her beautiful scales were reflecting the sun's dying colors and the plains' dull browns and brilliant greens. In her mouth was a prairie dog, and to her right, behind the shrub, lay two robins, five mice, and three rabbits.

_Is _this _why you were gone?_

She nodded. Pride gleamed from her cerulean-and-emerald eyes.

_Wow._

Grayson led Arpad to a patch of grass and began gathering dead grass and other flammables to start a fire. For dinner, they roasted the animals after Grayson had skinned them with his knife.

_I was really scared today,_ Grayson confessed to Ellesmaria.

_I should have told you what I was doing. I wouldn't normally be so long, but I was getting all of these animals._

_You did well. Thank you._

_Of course. _She was thankful for his gratitude. _I'm glad we are eating dinner together._

_Me, too. We had to eat off of the road to hide your tracks, though._

Grayson felt her annoyance at this, and said, _It__ won't always be like this—only in the Republic. When we reach the elves, we won't ever be apart, except for training._

_I know, but your safety will not be jeopardized because of my absence. If need be, I am always by your side._

_And I thank you for that. It's just, we can'__t blow our cover. It could but us both in danger, if we are discovered._

She sighed. _Could we change the subject? I have something to show you! _She sounded suddenly excited.

Ellesmaria got up and walked a short distance away. She paused, looked at him, and then she focused her attention straight ahead. She began running, picking up speed with each step. When she had reached her fastest, she dug her talons into the soft earth, scratching the surface.

Grayson saw the muscles in her forearms and hind legs flex as she crouched down then sprang up about five feet in the air. When she reached the height of her jump, her wings fanned open, and Grayson saw the glory of her four-foot wingspan. The twilight caught the translucent quality of her wings, highlighting the little veins that ran through them. The wind immediately caught her wings, and her body hesitated then started to gently sink, but she flapped and regained altitude.

She beat her wings several more times, and then she flew up and down, forward and around the camp before stilling her wings and gliding safely towards the ground. About a foot from the ground, she brought in one half of her wings, using the upper halves to repel wind for a gentle landing.

_Well? _she asked, in an arrogant manner.

_Wow! That was great!_

_I can't wait until I have grown enough for you to ride me._

_Neither can I, _said Grayson, thinking of how fun it would be.

That night, after spending hours looking at the stars, just before going to sleep, Grayson turned to Ellesmaria.

_Ellie?_

_Yes, Grayson?_

_…You're the best birthday present I've ever gotten._

_

* * *

_

A/N: If you took the time to read, please take a little more time to leave a review or comment.


	13. Together from Afar

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Together from Afar**

The pack was too small. She noticed this the first time she let Orium out at dinner, when Varsius had departed to find his own food. Orium had grown a good few inches, enough so that he could not comfortably sit in her lap anymore. There were stretch marks in the leather pack, and the inside was scratched from the constant movement of his talons.

_I know I said I could make it to the capitol, but I'm not sure I'll be able to fit in there much longer, _Orium told her, stretching out his sore front legs in an oddly cat-like fashion.

_You're growing fast. I think you might be on the verge of a growth spurt, _Daramay remarked.

_Great. Just what we need, _Orium said.

_I think there's only one solution to our problem, _Daramay said tentatively.

_I'll have to travel at a distance, _Orium said gloomily.

_Only for a little while, _Daramay said quickly. _Varsius says we should reach the main road any day now._

_I know, _Orium replied, _but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Besides, I don't like leaving you with _him. He nodded in the direction Varsius had headed. _I don't trust him, no matter what he says. You don't track someone like a hunter just so you can chit chat. _Daramay smiled at this. _Can't you lengthen the pack?_

_I don't have any hide to lengthen it with, _she explained. _The only reason I have this pack is because those in Dras Leona gave it to me. The elves do not make anything from the skin of animals._

_Then I guess there's no other way for it, _Orium said with a heavy sigh. _But what about you?_

_I'm touched by your concern, Orium, but as I have said before, I can take care of myself, _Daramay told him. _You should leave before he gets back. But don't go so far that we can't contact one another._

_I won't. And don't __worry;__ I'll make contact with you every few minutes so that we can be sure of our bearings. If you need me, I won't be far._

_Alright, _Daramay agreed. _But I'll still worry about you, you know._

_Oh? Is that so? _Orium asked good-naturedly.

_Your worries are my worries, remember?_

_I remember, _he said gently, and then he trotted away into the plains until he vanished in the tall grass.

* * *

They reached the main road fairly early the next day. It was a wide, dirt path lined with many white stones which were bright enough to see even at night. The shoe prints and wheel tracks were deep and plenty, a few of them fresh. A faint odor of hay and brandy hung in the air: smells Daramay had come to associate with humans. It was evident that the road saw many travelers. 

_Orium, be careful. We've reached the main road, and it is a busy one. Stay to our right, and keep as low as possible._

_Alright, _Orium replied. His voice had a faint, breathless quality to it that was not due to their distance from each other.

_Are you alright? You sound tired._

_I'm fine. Just be careful, _Orium said, and then he was gone.

_What was _that _all about? _Daramay wondered.

"Shall we go on?" Varsius asked.

Daramay took a deep breath and braced herself for whatever was ahead. The road stretched onward toward the horizon, and somewhere beyond lied Ilirea.

* * *

Grayson camped just outside the village the next evening. He had reached this spot that afternoon, but he would not have had enough time to finish his business, had he entered the village that day. He and Ellesmaria had agreed that she would wait at the northern side of the small town, two miles from its border. This way, they could remain in contact, but she would not be seen. 

On the following morning, Grayson contacted his dragon immediately after he woke.

_Good morning. I'm about to go into the village. If there's trouble, I let you know, but I don't expect any._

_Be prepared for the unexpected, _she cautioned.

_While I'm gone, you may do as you please, only stay out of sight. Fr__om now on, I recommend that you fly more than travel on foot. It has many advantages: you will travel much faster without leaving tracks, and you need to build up your wing muscles._

_Good advice._

_I'll meet you there by sundown._

_I understand. Be careful._

_I will._

As he entered the village's main road, the town seemed to awaken from some dormancy. People came out of buildings and alleys, some carting goods, others (mainly women), children. One woman held a baby with one hand and a rope that was fastened to four other children, all following their mother like ducks, in the other. Noises started growing louder as salesmen competed for buyers. Animals whinnied, mooed, clucked, and quacked all down the main street.

Grayson smiled. He felt exuberated. He was on his first adventure.

"You, sir! I bet you could do with a lovely pearl necklace!" yelled one street marketer.

Grayson smiled and shook his head.

"No? But you do not have a young woman whom you wish to impress?" The salesman smiled shrewdly while elbowing Grayson in the ribs.

Grayson continued on after denying the vender once more. He was offered fish, goats, (all sorts of animals really), flowers, and cheese, which he bought one wheel of. He was nearing the end of the road, when at last he came to a bread cart.

"May I interest you in some honey wheat?" asked a large, red-bearded man.

"I'd like three—no—four loaves of wheat, please."

"Fifteen crowns," the man replied.

Grayson reached into his pack for the money, and then placed it in the large, rough hand of the cart tender.

"Here you are."

"Thank you."

Grayson spent the rest of the day walking down the other side of the street and enjoying the various trinkets that were on display. For lunch, he had some of the bread and cheese that he had purchased along with a smoked sausage from the butcher. The seasoned meat was wonderful after a week or more of boiled game. Afterward, he bought himself some sugar cubes for a treat.

Finally, the afternoon began to close, and Grayson headed for the village's northern gate. Less than a block away from the exit, an old man sitting outside of a tent caught Grayson's attention. The man sat in ragged clothes, looking sad, and playing a slow tune on a beautiful violin. When he noticed Grayson, however, he stopped his playing.

"You're special, sonny," he said to Grayson while lying the violin at his side. He folded his arms, and then motioned with a finger for Grayson to come closer, which he did.

Grayson stood before the man nervously, not knowing what would come. The elderly man reached for Grayson's hands and placed them, outstretched, palms facing downward. Then, the violin player placed his two middle fingers on the backs of Grayson's hands and whispered strange words, his eyes closed.

The young man's eyes bulged and his lips slowly separated into a surprised gape. The man was saying words like the ones Salem had given to Grayson. A light feeling was flooding through Grayson's body that originated from the place where the man's fingers touched Grayson's hands.

And then…he let go. The old man leaned against the tent pole for comfort and was breathing deeply.

"I…" he heaved. "I have given you…my blessing. May the future…smile upon you…and may you help our land…with your great strength," (then he whispered, barely audible), "Grayson, Dragon Rider." He smiled.

Grayson stood still, his mouth now closed, his mind in shock. Several minutes later, he found himself heading once again toward the gate. When he reached it, he turned back for a look, but the man had gone.

* * *

Grayson reached the place where Ellesmaria waited, in the final light of sundown. Stars were beginning to shine in the purple sky above. The events that had taken place in the village were recounted to Ellesmaria, and upon reliving the moments involving the old man, Grayson had a revelation. 

_That man was some kind of magician! That was _magic _he used! That means the words which Salem gave me are _magic_ words! _he said excitedly, before realizing he didn't know how to use them.

_You'll learn, _Ellesmaria comforted. _You'll learn._

The next two days were rather uneventful. They spent their time traveling at a good pace and managed to cover over nineteen leagues in this time period. Ellesmaria flew beside Arpad, grateful to be traveling with Grayson again. Her speed in the air, however, was so great that she had to circle to keep even with the horse.

_Can't you coax that silly beast into running faster? _she asked arrogantly.

_Ellie, be nice._

They both laughed. Arpad neighed.

Four more days passed, and they saw no signs of a main road on the vast plains. Ellesmaria had continued to grow to this point until she was just short of being as big as Arpad, though the small horse was already scared of her.

_You should be riding _me _now, _she complained to Grayson one evening.

_I'm afraid you're not big enough yet._

_I'm nearly as big as he, _she retorted, nodding towards a feeding Arpad.

_I meant strong enough. You could probably carry me, but not for a very long time._

He paused and thought for a moment. _Could you double-time the flap of your wings? _he asked.

_That would just make me go higher or pass you up, _she said.

_Hmm…we need to develop your strength somehow. I could place some stones on your back, _he posed.

She hesitated before saying, _That _might _work._

Grayson searched the area around the camp until he found two large stones. One at a time, he placed them on her back. Then, he secured them by tying two ropes around her girth.

_How does that feel? _he checked.

_Heavy,_ she admitted.

_Try it out._

She took off and circled the camp. At first, she sunk a little in the air, Grayson was alarmed, but she soon regained altitude. Her speed was slowed, and her wings _did _have to pump harder, but that was what he had wanted.

_Is that OK? _he asked.

_I will be able to do it. _She sounded a little winded.

_Good. _He smiled.

Just as Grayson rolled out his bed that night, it began to rain heavily. He ran to the saddle and pulled out the almost-empty water pouches for filling. He sat them so that they collected the rain then ran to his bed roll. The fire was soon put out.

Ellesmaria came up beside him and stretched her right wing over his body, shielding him from the downpour. Grayson smiled at this, his first sleep under her wing. It was both warm and dry, though her wing barely fit over his curled up body.

_Thank you. Are you OK? _he asked.

_I'm fine._

_Goodnight, Ellie._

_Sleep well._

The pitter-patter of rain on her scales sang him to sleep.

* * *

A/N: If you've read, please take some time to leave a review or something, or at least a comment. Thank you. What are your thoughts about this entry and/or the story in general? Do you have any comments about the actual writing? If you are getting tired of the plot, you will not have to wait much longer for it to change. We are getting ready to get into a better part of the story. Whoo! 


	14. Almost There

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Almost There**

The city was maybe a day's journey away, a resolute destination for the road they traveled upon. Rain clouds hovered to the south. A light breeze was the only comfort they had from the growing intensity of the heat. The city shimmered as though it were only a mirage. The road was paved with people, most traveling _from_ the city, all loaded down in wagons full of the trade. Varsius seemed uninterested in most of the current scenery, but Daramay was fascinated by every detail. They had already passed more people on the road than she had seen in all of Dras Leona.

From somewhere in the last of the plains to her right and left came Orium's voice. He could feel her excitement and was eager to know of the cause. As always nowadays, he sounded winded, as though he had been running hard. Whenever she inquired as to why, Orium directed the conversation to other matters. She had finally given up, thinking that he would reveal his secret sooner or later. In the meantime, they discussed what they should do in their current situation.

_We may even reach the river before sundown, _Daramay was saying as she and Varsius passed yet another bulky wagon. _You will not be able to cross with us on the ferry. I don't want you to try swimming to the other bank—_

_I wasn't thinking of swimming, _Orium interjected.

_If you're thinking of flying…_Daramay began.

_That _is _what I'm thinking, Daramay. It's the only way of crossing without being seen, and—_

_Orium, you've never flown that far! What if you get tired halfway and…?_

_And what? You know, I haven't just been smelling the flowers out here. I've been practicing, and I've built up quite a physique._

_A 'physique?' _Daramay asked with obvious amusement.

_Yes. I'm positive I have enough strength to cross the Ramr, _Orium said, speaking mostly to himself now.

_But if you—_Daramay tried again.

_I'll be alright,_ Orium responded, and she was surprised to hear a definite note of defiance in his voice. _I guess it was pretty obvious to you what I've been doing, huh?_

_Well, I suspected, but I had my doubts, _Daramay answered. _To be honest, I wasn't sure if you were even big enough to fly yet. Clever way to change the subject._

_I've grown quite a bit, _Orium said, and Daramay heard that pride in his voice which she had come to know so well. _I'm no horse yet, but neither am I a pup. And I didn't change the subject. I only tweaked it a bit._

_I can't wait to see you, _Daramay said, and she was suddenly struck by a wave of nostalgia. She only wanted to be home—home with Orium and her father—not here with a deceptive Shade who was 

surely hiding something from her. She wanted to see the trees again, lush and green in their ancient roots, not staring at some gray blob of a city where the people lived together as closely as pigs in a pen. 

She was so swept up in this burst of emotion that she almost acted upon it. Her grip on the reins had tightened as well as her feet in the stirrups, and she was so close to turning the mare around that her senses barely registered Orium's voice in the background, asking her persistently if something was wrong. It was Varsius who broke the wave:

"…for the ferry?"

"What? I'm sorry. I didn't catch that," Daramay said, at last returning from her daze.

"You know, for an elf, you don't hear very well," he commented casually.

"You know, for a Shade, you don't track very well," Daramay replied promptly.

"Well, _that_ put me in my place," Varsius said in a horribly prissy voice. Then, returning to his normal tone, he told her, "I asked if you have enough crowns for the ferry."

"How much is it?"

"Five crowns."

"It's only two crowns for the crossing near Gil'ead."

"Welcome to the capital."

_Are you alright? Answer me, will you!_

Daramay had completely forgotten about her distant companion. He had been shouting at her for at least a minute. She was sure that if she didn't answer soon, her headstrong dragon would come charging out onto the main road and scare the life out of the poor travelers, not to mention her not-so-lovable companion. The image of Varsius falling off of his horse in surprise came to her mind, and she smiled with evil humor.

"What are you smiling about?" Varsius asked.

"Nothing," Daramay answered. _Orium, are you there?_

_Of course I'm here. I've _been _here. Where are _you? Orium replied angrily.

_Sorry. I lost track of things for a moment, and then I spoke with Varsius._

"People don't smile about nothing, dear heart," Varsius insisted calmly.

"I do," Daramay said warily.

_I'm not very far from the road right now. Did Varsius speak? I thought I heard his voice on the wind._

_Yes, he did. Be careful, Orium. His eyes are not as sharp as mine, but they are sharp enough._

"Sometimes I have doubts about your sanity," Varsius rambled on beside her.

"I have no doubts about yours," Daramay replied smartly and winced at the harsh bark of laughter that escaped him.

"I'm intelligent, and I'm quick, little one. I never said anything about my sanity," Varsius told her, flashing a grin that turned his eyes a deeper, inhuman tint of red.

_I can see you._

Daramay nearly fell out of the saddle. Her sudden, unexplained movement would have looked suspicious, so she bent down at the last second, reaching for the knife in her boot. Varsius, who had no idea that he was being watched, looked honestly surprised at the appearance of the blade. He even threw his hands up (with more humor than surprise) and said, "I was just kidding."

A moment later, Daramay pulled out the last loaf of bread that she possessed, cut a slice off with the knife that she held, and ate her snack without enthusiasm. Varsius put his hands down and stared placidly at her as she munched. While this moment of silence persisted, she contacted Orium, whose voice was not as faint as it had been just minutes ago. He was definitely closer.

_Orium, keep down! Do you realize how much danger you're in!_

"Do you regularly use hunting weapons to get yourself a slice of bread?" Varsius asked.

"A little jumpy, aren't you?" Daramay asked in return, a tiny smile starting in the corners of her mouth. "Don't you trust me?"

"I'll trust you the same day I become King of the Dwarves," he replied.

"That soon, huh?"

He glared at her.

_You sure told him. Look at his face! _Orium laughed his way into her mind.

_Orium, you need to move further back into the grass. I can't see you, but if _he _does…_

_I couldn't help it. I wanted to see you._

_I know. And I promise that as soon as I get situated in the city, I'll come visit you, just like we agreed. But for now, you need to move. I don't want to risk you being seen._

_Alright, _Orium agreed, and Daramay felt her heart sink at the sadness in his voice. _But if you need me, I'll only be a short distance away._

_I'll always need you, Orium, _Daramay said softly.

_The feeling's mutual, my friend._

They reached the ferry two hours after the sun had slipped below her western rim. The river was a live wire of moonlight, twisting and turning as the current swept it away. The lanterns hanging from the boat bobbed in the darkness, the tiny flames reflected eerily off the darker waters it rested on. There were few waiting at the docks, but those there looked haggard and shifty. Most were just tired travelers on a weary road, but a couple of them could have been outlaws, waiting desperately for refuge in a city that would swallow them into its shadows.

As the ramp of the ferry hit the landing, Daramay hastily pulled her hair down over her ears. Her father had told her that it was best to hide one's features when entering the domain of humans. They did not despise elves, but many were not comfortable around them. Once word passed around that there indeed was an elf nearby, her father had told her, and_ then _it was safe to reveal herself, for the public was ready and aware. She had though this strange advice, but her first few days in Dras Leona had proven it true. It was best to let word get around first.

"Nervous, my dear?" Varsius asked softly, as others began boarding.

"No, but I am cautious," Daramay replied, and they both stepped forward.

The ferry was flat-bottomed, designed to carry cattle and other heavy materials. After securing the mare to a post near the center of the deck, Daramay walked to the edge and leaned over the rail, gazing serenely at the smooth waters rushing below her feet. She reached out with her mind to contact Orium, but she only met dead air; however, this did not alarm her. He had told her earlier that he might be unreachable while crossing the river. He wanted to concentrate on flying with his entire mind, never having flown so far before.

Daramay looked up into the sky. Thousands of stars spanned out like white dust onto the backdrop of darkness. She had never been on the river at night, and the sight struck her as odd. When she looked down upon the river, she could see millions of tiny reflections shimmering on the water, her own head floating predominantly among them like some strange centerpiece. The image made her smile.

Odd. The image made her smile. It seemed that everything was odd outside the borders of her forest. Then she remembered that she was not so un-odd herself. Was she not the first female Dragon Rider of the age? The thought made her smile widen.

"There you go again. Never have I met someone so happy to smile at nothing."

Varsius ambled up to the rail beside her and looked down at his own reflection. His red eyes gleamed from the black waters like some deep evil hidden within the depths.

"We shall break camp some distance from the bank. It is not wise to stay close to shore now that night has fallen."

"Why can't we just find an inn to bed down in for the night?" Daramay asked.

"There are great walls that surround all of Ilirea. They have been there since the city was young. They close the gates at sundown and do not open them for any man until the sun rises. We will enter the city early tomorrow morning."

"And then I will meet this senator of yours?" Daramay inquired.

"If all goes well," Varsius replied.

"I am nervous. I don't trust this city. I've not yet entered it, and it is already too large for me. I don't belong here," Daramay informed him placidly.

"As long as you remember that…"

Daramay turned to him, stunned and yet, not surprised. Varsius glared at her, and she saw that he had meant what he said. He turned and disappeared into the shadows behind the lanterns.

* * *

A/N: I know it has been awhile. Perhaps I will be quicker with the next update. If you would leave a comment or something... 


	15. Troubles

I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.

* * *

**Troubles**

By morning, the clouds had unveiled another beautiful, however hot, day. The air under Ellesmaria's wing was humid from the night before. Grayson eased it off of himself gently, trying not to wake her. She rolled over but was still asleep. Droplets of rain had condensed on the sharp tips of Ellesmaria's scales, catching the sun and casting miniature rainbows all over her body.

Grayson started a fire for breakfast, and then he left the camp to hunt, returning just short of an hour with two handsome-sized rabbits. Ellesmaria was awake.

_Look, Ellie! _he said with glee. _I got these with my bow and arr—Oh._

In mid-speech, he had noticed five rabbits (three of them larger than either of his) at her feet.

_I got tired of waiting for you…_ she said arrogantly, licking her right paw.

Grayson glared angrily for a moment, and then he burst into laughter.

A little later, their bellies full, Grayson doused the fire and mounted Arpad.

_I want to reach Ilirea in the next few days, _he told Ellesmaria.

_We're in no hurry…_

_I know, but traveling is getting tiresome. I want to see the big city. I'm ready to start an adventure—_our _adventure! _She said nothing, but Grayson felt her excitement. Then:

_You're right! Let's go! _She flew high and fast, feeding on her own elation.

"Yeah!" Grayson yelled into the air. He watched Ellesmaria fly higher and higher, gaining speed with altitude. Then, he witnessed one of the worst events of his life: As she pumped her wings, a gust of wind caught them opened. Unprepared and imbalanced, she fell rapidly. Only feet off of the ground, she tried to open her wings and slow down, but she was too close to the earth. She landed on her left side with a small _crack._

Grayson urged Arpad to the trembling mass that was Ellesmaria.

_Are you OK? _he asked frantically. He laid his hands on her sides. She was shaking, and her heart beat was quick.

_M-my wing hurts…but I'm m-mostly scared._

She added the last part, as if trying to reassure him.

_Can you stand?_

She slowly got up. Grayson tested each leg, bending it cautiously, but everything checked out. Then, he went to the wings. The left wing was immediately noticeable, the arm bent awkwardly, while the right wing lay folded against her side.

_Can you fold your left wing in? _he asked.

He saw it move slightly, but she winced and roared with pain, smoke billowing from her nostrils.

_OK, OK. It's OK, _he tried to comfort her. He looked the wing over for a moment, went to his saddle, and returned with some cloth strips.

_I'm afraid it's broken, and I'm going to have to reset the bones so it can heal faster, which, unfortunately, will—_

—_hurt, _she finished.

_Right, _said Grayson. _You'll have to restrain yourself from kicking me._

_OK,_ she answered shortly. The damage was obviously causing her pain. _Just get it over with._

_Right, _he repeated. He set to work, resetting the bones as they grew naturally. Then, he administered the cloth strips, tying the bones in place. _There. Feel better?_

_If I don't move it, _she said resentfully.

_Well, don't move it. You might move the bone. Of course you won't be able to fly for awhile._

She grumbled.

_But at least we'll be spending more time in each others' company…and…and you can still carry the stones if you like…_Grayson tried.

_Thanks for making it feel better, _she said.

Relieved, Grayson smiled and said, _You're welcome._

Over the next few days, Ellesmaria walked with her left wing extended and her right tucked in. The only problems came if a gust of wind blew, catching her wing. For this reason, she could not even run, which considerably slowed their pace. At night, she would leave her wing extended over Grayson. They would rest the tip on a stone or something else so that she did not have to hold it up all night as well.

The two travelers continued their conversations during the day, growing stronger as dragon and Rider, growing stronger as friends. Ellesmaria's training was hindered due to her injury, but once again, her leg muscles began to grow.

Another thing that grew with each step they took was their anticipation. Grayson desired to see the big city, the capital of all of the Republic of Alagaesia. For Ellesmaria, the crave for an adventure overpowered her depression because of her physical state. And so, they pressed on.

* * *

One day, while taking a break from the road, Grayson sat under a short plains' tree. Relaxing in its shade, he unfurled an item he had purchased from a vender in the village: a newspaper. The article he was looking at read:

"No Advocate, No Appeal!

**I**n a recent hearing of the High Council of Alagaesia, Senator Gregoir, representative from Ilirea, made a daring move for a mere senator. The representative wished to bring attention to the idea of a new office: 'Chief of the High Council and Ambassador for the People of Alagaesia,' as he so boldly put it.

The position in question, he described as follows: head of the High Council, acting as ambassador on behalf of the High Council and the Republic to such peoples as the elves, one which is allowed three votes in the Senate, all among other things.

To some, the position of power seemed like an ideal asset to maintaining a peaceful Republic; to others, a suspicious step in the opposite direction.

One to speak up during the meeting of Senate was Vladimir Lepinski, well-known Dragon Rider and sole representative of Vroengard:

'The Dragon Riders, who risk their lives to keep this country safe already act as ambassadors on behalf of this Council _and _this country. There is no need for any Chief of the Council.'

One of the senators from Ceunon agreed. 'Furthermore,' he stated, 'matters such as this, as stated in the law, require the proposer, in this case, _you_, to bring forth an advocate. Can you provide one?'

When the senator responded in the negative, the case was dismissed—at least for the time being. Some members of the Council were pleased that the matter was settled, while others chanted for a retrial in the future. This just may have been the fan-to-the-flame our dear senator needed to find the courage to try again.

Those opposed to the suggestion responded with the cry, 'No advocate, no appeal!'"

Grayson folded the article, rolling his eyes at the foolishness of politics. He thought them boring and confusing. Then he thought about the man. It could be pretty useful to have an ambassador. Grayson could see how some people were growing leery of the Dragon Riders, and an ambassador from the Council might be more comfortable for some people.

But then _again… _It _did _seem suspicious. This would be a position of more power than the other Council members. Besides, _he _was a Dragon Rider now!

_People are beginning to prejudice, _he thought angrily.

In the end, he decided that the man might have good intentions, but overall, it seemed fishy.

Just then, Ellesmaria came back from hunting.

_Everything alright? You seem angry._

_Nah. Just…a little upset, but I'm fine._

_Hmm…_she said.

_Hey, thanks for your concern, but I'm fine, OK?_

_If you say so..._

They both laughed.

* * *

Five days passed without event. By afternoon on the sixth day, they reached the top of a large hill where they made camp early. Down the hill and still several days' traveling away sat the city of Ilirea, the shimmering Ramr on the other side. From the summit, Ilirea appeared to be the size of Grayson's thumbnail.

_Wow, _he said.

_Amazing, _voiced Ellesmaria.

_We've almost made it. Can you believe it? We're finally here!_ said Grayson excitedly. But the feeling suddenly left when he thought of home.

_I know you miss them._

_I do, _he admitted. He plopped down in the grass and began to sob then cry.

_Do not dwell on it. Let your feelings out, but do not them overtake you,_ Ellesmaria advised.

He gave her a teary smile, and then he placed his arms around her neck. Ellesmaria began to purr. When Grayson began to sob again, she asked, _What's the matter?_

_It's just that…now, when I need you most, you have to leave again._

She looked him straight in the eyes. _I'm not leaving._

_You can't follow me into the city…_

_Oh, _she said coldly. _That._

Grayson feared he had angered her, but she corrected his feelings, _I'm not mad at _you.

_Just do it for _me, _huh? Once we find out where the elves are, we'll be together on the way there and even after that._

His words excited her, and she placed her neck on his shoulder. He embraced her once again, and she began purring even louder than before. All thoughts of home vanished from Grayson's mind, and he slipped into an early sleep—a peaceful sleep.

* * *

A/N: Do you see the story really taking shape? If you read, would you take a little more time to send me something?


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